


Omertà: A Creed That Knows No Bounds

by kuv28



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Italian Mafia, Kalex, Loosely inspired by The Irishman, Mild Language, They are not related in this one, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22275298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuv28/pseuds/kuv28
Summary: Raised in a poor Irish working-class family, Alex Danvers gets involved with the Zoreletti crime family whose power is threatened by rival clans, organizations, and over looming feds.Alex receives an opportunity to rise in the ranks of the notorious entity and eventually establishes a close relationship with senior member Kara Zoreletti. Will she swear her loyalty to the criminal organization? Or are her days numbered?
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers/Kara Danvers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Omertà: A Creed That Knows No Bounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omertà: A code of silence that involves the refusal to cooperate with the authorities. It is often associated with Italian criminal organizations.

A chilling cold settled into the dank room. The sole person inside noticed the air ventilation picking up and that could only mean one thing... they were coming back for another round of questioning.

_They_ as in the investigators. Or to be more precise, investigators from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The people up top had made the investigation an utmost priority and had sent a couple of their best agents all the way from D.C. This detainee possessed crucial information that could potentially lead to the location of prime targets on their list.

The woman was pretty sure their tactics to break her down were against proper protocol, but her opinion didn’t matter with regard to the conditions of the room.

The cagey room was a confined box in the sense that small even-lengthed walls closed in around the perimeter. The ceiling was quite low that a six-foot-one individual would have to slightly lower their head upon entering. 

In the center of the room was a metal table. Two chairs rested on one side, just in front of the large one-way mirror that covered the entirety of its wall. Opposite of all this was another standalone chair currently occupied by the apprehended suspect. 

Her hands were bound to handcuffs attached to a guardrail on the table. A narrow ray of light hovered directly above, the only source of a minuscule amount of warmth in the freezing room as the heat settled against the woman’s head. In fact, it was the only light in the room, thus highlighting the slim figure in the midst of a relatively dark room.

The woman could only stare at her reflection and wait. Dark bags marred her eyes from endless nights. Her dark brown hair sitting just above her shoulders was oily and unkempt. The white shirt and black dress pants she wore had wrinkles throughout, no longer in the pristine condition they once were prior to her arrest.

But was it even an arrest? She recalled her capture was during an intense firefight. She was in pursuit of an individual when she was clocked in the head by someone from behind. The next thing she knew, she was sitting in the very same place she was situated now.

Her thoughts wandered off until she heard the creak of the door handle at the far side of the room. Two men entered the room and similar to the several other times they had come in, they had to duck their heads unless run the risk of getting hit by the short ceiling.

The older of the two was the lead investigator who went by the name of Hank Henshaw. As one would come to expect with his age, he held a stoic persona that garnered vast experience. He appeared to be a man of pacifism, but don’t let his appearance fool you as many have already. In the event of a necessary situation, he was no stranger to getting his hands dirty by any means in order to get what he wanted.

The much younger and slightly younger man that followed after him was Henshaw’s partner. Jimmy Olsen was new to the law enforcement scene, but was recruited just the other year after making waves in the investigation that took down an affiliated organization to the Zoreletti crime family. With the right guidance, there was great promise in the agent’s career, but his greatest flaw was setting aside his emotions when appropriate. 

The woman had made sure to keep their names and information in the backlog of her mind.

For future retribution...

Henshaw took his seat whilst Olsen decided to recline against the wall. The latter had to lean down at an awkward angle to compensate for his height.

A soft chuckle broke the silence of the room.

The younger man looked ridiculous and while it brought some entertainment for the detainee, the investigators were clearly not amused.

Henshaw took that as a segway to begin, “Miss Danvers, have you thought about what we discussed the other day?”

…

The agent sighed. “You think staying silent is going to help you, but this isn’t the 1960s. You won’t get away with what you’ve done, especially with all the charges listed against you. We have the evidence to put you away for life.” He paused to hopefully let it sink in for the woman. “Tell us what we want to know and maybe we can cut you a deal.”

The woman thought in false contemplation before raising a steadfast glare. “You can break my leg, cut-off every single one of my fingers and I still won’t tell you a thing.”

The leading investigator shook his head with disappointment as the interrogation was clearly going nowhere. They had been trying to get a crack at the woman for almost a week, but to no avail, the women didn’t break. He may need to start using his _other_ methods if this kept up. Time was of the essence, and the more time spent in here was less time spent on apprehending the senior members of the target crime organization.

Olsen sucked his teeth, his temper flaring due to the highly obstinate woman.

Henshaw placed his hands on the table in a reluctant show of acquiescence and proceeded to rise from his seat. “I think we’re done for now.”

Olsen quickly followed after him to exit the room, but not before glancing back and addressing the woman, “I hope _she’s_ worth it. We’ll get her eventually and burn the organization to the fucking ground.” And with that, he shut the door closed.

After a moment the sole lightbulb in the room turned off bringing the room to a pitch black. The ventilation also started to pan out thus bringing the room back to a more temperate temperature.

Readjusting to the familiar darkness, the woman took note of the tiny red light coming off from the security camera at the far right corner. They continued to watch her 24/7 even outside of proper interrogation.

The woman ran Olsen’s last statement in her head and could only smirk. “We’ll see about that,” she stated out loud, the words dying within the small confines of the room, but the promise reverberating throughout the concrete walls. 

  
  


Walls that would soon be torn down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? I watched The Irishman this weekend and what I have planned for this story is loosely inspired by it. While a bit long, it's still a great film that I would highly recommend.
> 
> This is one of the stories that I look forward to getting into. I was so excited about it that I decided to release this chapter. Since I'm prioritizing my current work first, there won't be any updates for Omertà until after I finish it and possibly after another one I have planned.
> 
> However, I encourage you to comment. Questions? Feedback, concerns, or anything else is much appreciated as they keep me going and may spur faster updates in the future. This is especially true for this story as it may also lead to some needed inspiration down the road.
> 
> Thanks for reading and until next time.


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